


Toki- Nobody Cares

by zsomeone



Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Drug Addiction, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-26
Updated: 2009-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-16 15:10:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3492974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zsomeone/pseuds/zsomeone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Toki’s POV, imagine he’s thinking in Norwegian if you like.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Toki- Nobody Cares

**Author's Note:**

> I started watching in S2, and saw S1 all out of order, so the timeline here is off in places.

How can they not even notice? I know I’ve been hiding it pretty well, but even when I’ve all but shouted it at them, nobody sees anything, nobody hears me. I know this has gone too far, but I’m in too deep now and I don’t see any way out. I don’t know if I could find it in me to stop. And honestly, I really don’t even want to try.

I guess I should start at the beginning. Well, not the _very_ beginning, but my early days in Dethklok. I was so excited, so happy to be chosen. It was like all my dreams had come true, more than I’d ever thought possible. They humored me at first, I was new and different. They liked to make fun of my accent, although though even back then, I still spoke better English that Skwisgaar. I didn’t mind too much, it was such a small price to pay to be part of all this.

Then I guess the novelty must have worn off, I wasn’t new anymore. And I wasn’t important. They seemed to merely tolerate me much of the time. Sure, they don’t let Murderface write either, but he still gets more respect. Maybe because he’s older? I don’t really know. They thought I was weird for wanting to build models, and for having a teddy bear. But I just needed something to _do_. Building things was a way to pass the time. And about the bear, they’ll never know that it has a deep secret of it’s own. But I’ll get into that later.

They started ignoring me. Nobody ever wanted to do anything with me, or spend time with me. They all treated me like some dumb kid, and I’m not that young. Like a pet you’ve grown tired of, so you just ignore and hope someone else will deal with it. It might have something to do with all the candy, I guess candy can be considered childish. I do like candy of course, or I wouldn’t eat it, but they don’t know _why_ I ate it. You see, if I eat enough sugar, I get hyper and can be more like the person I was when I first came, the happy cheerful one that they found so amusing. Of course, after that whole diabetes thing, I had no choice but to cut back. 

I just wished they would care. Or that anybody would, really. Even the fan girls, they don’t care about me, they just care that I’m Dethklok. They’d go with even Murderface just as willingly. Sure all the sex you can want is great at first, but when you realize they’re just using you, it just loses something. Not that the others seem to mind so much, but I do. So I pretty much just quit letting any of them come with me, most of the time. It would be different if I could have a girlfriend, but I can’t. It just wouldn’t work out here. Besides, I don’t want to end up getting tazered like we did to Nathan during that whole Rebecca nightmare. I just want someone to care about me, is that so wrong?

Yes, I know they think I’m a virgin, what a joke, and they may even think I’m gay. I really don’t care. I’m not going to fuck girls in front of them just to prove it, I prefer privacy for that sort of thing. As for the gayness, I would probably pretend, if I thought that might get their attention. I could pinch Skwisgaar’s ass in the hot tub, that would be pretty funny. But I’d be too worried he just might just take me up on it, since I know he’ll pretty much fuck anything. And I definitely don’t want to have sex with him. Or any of them, for that matter.

Obviously, I needed something else. I didn’t want to ask Pickles, even though he’s usually nice to me. I didn’t want him to think of me like that. Also, I was pretty sure he didn’t have anything really heavy anyway, they do try to screen what we have access to. I was spending more time on my own anyway, I’m sure nobody even noticed. They probably thought I was in my room building more models. I haven’t done any in a long time, but they don’t notice. They just never really notice me at all. It’s fucking depressing. And how can living in a huge haus with everything you might want be so damn boring?

One night while I was out driving around, I went to this show. Yeah, I know they all think I can’t drive. It’s true that I don’t have a licence and don’t know most of the rules, but I can get in a car and go. It’s not that hard. If I get arrested, the manager will get me out, so I don’t really care. Anyway, I ran into the clown there. I’ve always kind of liked clowns, something about how they wear their horrified screams on the outside for all to see. I knew who he was of course, Dr. Rockso the rock ‘n roll clown. He does cocaine. And I’ve heard cocaine is _way_ better than sugar.

Rockso was happy to cut me a line. Wowee, that stuff burned, but then I felt so damn _good_. Oh yeah, this was what I needed, what I wanted. I bought some off him right there, and arranged for him to be my supplier. Ha, maybe they’d notice me if I brought my new friend around? I know they hate him, they’ve said it before. Yeah coke’s expensive, but there are definitely advantages to being a rich metal god, I can afford it. I wasn’t too worried about getting the coke in the haus. Although we’re normally checked for this sort of thing, I was sure nobody would suspect innocent little me of sneaking in cocaine. 

I was right, nobody checked me. I went straight to my room. Although I don’t think the others are even aware of it, I know our rooms are searched regularly for anything we might manage sneak through. But I wasn’t worried about that, because I have a hiding place no one would ever suspect. My bear. Years ago, I installed a small zipper along a seam. Yes, I can sew a little, I had to learn as a child if I wanted my clothes to be in one piece. Nobody was going to do it for me. Anyway, the zipper is invisible unless you know _exactly_ where to look. Over the years I’ve hidden all kinds of different things in there. And they all think it’s the _toy_ I’m so worried about, ha. I hid the coke in the bear.

Life was so much better. It made me happy, it gave me energy, I wasn’t bored anymore. It even helped me play the faster guitar riffs with more precision. I was back to being their funny little Toki, always running around. Yeah, laugh at me motherfuckers, I’m just here for your entertainment right? But any attention was better than none, yeah I know I’ve got problems. Of course, that damn clown wanted to hang out more. I really didn’t like him much, but there was no one else I could trust to keep me supplied. And still, nobody noticed anything. Not even the manager. Seriously, how could they not notice?

It pays to pay attention to the details, I know _exactly_ where the blind spots in my security cameras are. I was snorting coke every day at that point. It still burned like a bitch, but I had no choice, needle marks would probably be noticed. As much as they try not to be obvious about it, they do inspect us pretty thoroughly. I was careful to always clean up the evidence, never leave any trace for them to find. But I loved it, loved that feeling. It was like flying, I felt so free. Nothing really mattered when I was high.

I spent a lot of time in the fitness room, I doubt the others even know we have one. I had to do _something_ with all this wonderful energy I had. They all know I have a better body than any of them, they bitch about it, yet they do nothing to improve theirs. Lazy bastards. It was during a particularly hard workout that my nose started bleeding. I was pretty worried at first, but it didn’t last long. I soon discovered that it would bleed anytime I was straining myself. I guess I had already done some damage with all the coke, but no way was I going to stop. 

Then Rockso called me one night. He’d hit the bottom and wanted help getting clean. Of course I had to go to him, after all he’s done for me. Hell, he’d taken several beatings to deliver my drugs and never said a word. But I was scared. If he got clean, where would I find more coke? Stopping was no longer an option, I needed it so bad now. I got Pickles to drive me, I was too upset to manage it. Fortunately, the clown had a fair amount of coke on him when we got there that I managed to pocket without Pickles noticing. I would have to try to make it last. 

Well, the damn clown actually managed to get clean. I felt like such a hypocrite at that stupid intervention. Yeah Rockso, don’t do drugs. Just keep getting them for me, oh please....  
I tried to cut back, to make it last longer. This caused some scary mood swings, and made me feel like complete shit. I needed it so bad, but was running so low. It literally fucking hurt not to have it. Massive amounts of alcohol helped some, so I started drinking heavily whenever I couldn’t be high. 

I needed help now, I knew it. But I just couldn’t bring myself to tell them. I kept hoping they’d notice, hoping they’d guess. Hoping somebody would care about me just a little. At a band meeting I tried again. I showed them how I could make my nose bleed. Yes, I did call it a blowjob, I thought using the wrong word might actually get their attention better. They all watched, then called me stupid and went back to ignoring me. How much more obvious could I get, if that didn’t scream “hey I have a coke problem, help me” I don’t know what would. Even from the manager, no response at all.

And then it was gone, I’d finally run out. That damn clown was still clean, and wouldn’t even take my calls. When I heard about him being at the Sobertown USA show, I just had to go. It was just a coincidence that Snakes N Barrels was playing, so everybody else was going too. There on stage, that damn clown who had let me down. I could barely think. I should have drank earlier, because I was really losing it. And then I beat the crap out of that dude. I don’t even know who he was. I may have killed him, I don’t know. But what scares me, it could have easily been one of my bandmates, it could have been anyone at all. I just snapped, I don’t even remember doing it. It’s all blank until Murderface called my name. I almost went for him, if he’d been any closer I probably wouldn’t have been able to stop myself. I don’t know if you’ve ever come back to reality and found yourself covered in blood and glaring homicidally at your bandmate, but it’s a bit scary.

But in the following chaos, there was a ray of hope. Rockso was back on cocaine. Now if he’d just hook me up again, all would be well. I fucking needed it so bad. I caught him backstage briefly, but the bastard wouldn’t speak to me. Apparently I’d threatened to kill him at some point, and he wanted nothing to do with me. And I guess still being all covered in blood didn’t really help my case. And there was none left back there, none left at all. I wouldn’t have even cared who saw me at that point, if only I could get even a _little_. But there was nothing, none at all. _Fuck_ , to be so close and to be denied....

I’d tried so hard to find another connection somewhere, anywhere. There was none. It seems every dealer in driving distance had been warned that selling to any member of Dethklok would end in their immediate death. Rockso was the only one who could ever get through. Going without was pure torture. I started drinking constantly, anything to dull the pain. Sure it hurt me at practice, but who cares? They bitch about my playing no matter how good it is, so why even bother trying anymore? They don’t fucking care, so why should I?

That day they dumped me in the shower and stood there watching me.... I heard every word they said. How they don’t care. How they _won’t_ care, refuse to care. I just lay there for a while, all wet, needing more alcohol because I could still think, could still feel. But I just couldn’t drag myself up to go find more. Eventually, somebody turned off the water and dumped me in my room. I’m pretty sure it was a Klokateer.

They expected me to play that night, what joke. I could barely walk. Everything was kind of a blur. Then fire, confusion, and I was all alone. Something knocked me down, pinning me. Maybe this was the end, maybe in death I would finally find peace. I just lay there, not even trying to get free. The smoke grew thicker, I waited for death. Then suddenly the weight was gone, and I was lifted up. Not dead, but draped over Nathan’s shoulder as he carried me away. He told me I need to stop drinking so much. He does care. That’s all I ever wanted to hear. 

But right now, I’d trade it all for just one more line....


End file.
